Stumptown Kid Read Free Page B

us, though, like she was watching us from deeper inside the room. Mrs. Banks is an old busybody. She’s always watching us, but I figured she was spying on us now because Luther was a stranger. Probably because he was colored, too.
    “Well,” Mom said, “if you like spaghetti, Luther, you’re welcome to have some with us.”
    “Oh, I don’t know, ma’am.” He looked away into the trees.
    Mom blinked a couple of times. “We’d be pleased to have you.” She sounded more definite now.
    “Well, if you’re sure it’s no trouble,” Luther said slowly.
    “She don’t mind,” I told him.
    “Doesn’t,” Mom corrected.
    “She
doesn’t
mind.”
    “That sounds good then.” Luther nodded, but he still didn’t look Mom full in the face. “Thank you, ma’am.”
    I wondered then if Luther had eaten anything since that fish last night.
    “I’m gonna get Luther some more lemonade,” I said.
    “I’ll get it,” Mom said quickly and took Luther’s glass from him. She cleared her throat again. “Charlie, will you come in and help me, please?”
    I followed Mom back inside. In the kitchen, she said, “It was nice of Luther to talk to you about baseball.” Her voice was light, but I could tell she was deliberating on something.
    “Yeah,” I said. “He seems real nice.”
    “He does seem like a nice young man.” She pulled open the Frigidaire and got hold of the pitcher. “But you know you should be careful about strangers.”
    “I am,” I said. “I wouldn’t have gone anywhere with him. And I wouldn’t have brought him home, but I knew you’d be here.”
    She set the pitcher carefully on the counter. “I’m glad you’re thinking about that, hon. I’m not trying to scare you. I just want you to keep in mind how to be safe.”
    “Okay.”
    “I’m just not sure if Vern …” Her voice trailed off.
    “If Vern what?” I asked.
    She poured the lemonade into Luther’s glass. “Well, I’m just glad he’s not coming tonight.” She said it so quietly, I almost didn’t hear.
    “Why not?”
    “Oh, it doesn’t matter,” she said. “We’ll talk about it later.”
    “No, let’s talk about it now,” I said. “What about Vern?” I could hear my voice getting louder. Just hearing that man’s name was setting my teeth on edge.
    “Well …” She frowned a little. “It’s just that he—he doesn’t like colored people very much.”
    “How come?”
    Mom took the pitcher back to the Frigidaire. “Well, some people are just that way. And there’s no point getting him upset.”
    I didn’t care if Vern was upset. “Why do you have to see him, anyway?” I asked her. “He’s nothing like Dad. Vern couldn’t be a war hero if you jammed the enemy’s guns and told him exactly what to do.”
    “Nobody’s like your dad,” Mom said. “And you remember that. It’s just that I … get lonely sometimes.” She looked at me close for a second or two. “Being your mom is easy, sweetheart, but I’m not very good at being a dad, too. It’d be nice to have some help with that.” I started to open my mouth, and she rushed on. “I don’t mean for anyone to take your dad’s place, honey. But it would be wonderful if you had someone to do father-son things with.”
    “I don’t want to do father-son things with Vern.”
    “Now Charlie, Vern’s a good man in a lot of ways. He can be very thoughtful. And he has a good, steady job.”
    “I still don’t like him.”
    Mom sighed. “Charlie, Vern cares about you, you know. So don’t say anything against him. Now, you go on out with Luther, and I’ll call you when supper’s ready.”
    I felt like arguing some more, but Luther was waiting for me. I took him the lemonade, and we sat under the tree.
    “You sure your mama don’t mind if I stay for supper?” Luther asked. He wrapped his big hands around the cold glass.
    “No, she wants you to stay,” I said.
    “She’s a nice lady.”
    “Yeah.” I blew out, puffing out my cheeks. “I